Extension
by EarmuffedAmazon
Summary: DA/SN Crossover. Max & Alec have their hands full in T.C. but things are about to get a whole lot more complicated when they are contacted by someone looking for info on Dean Winchester...and the Familar's Cult. UPDATED!
1. Chapter 1

_At long last…the prologue for "Extension"_

_I should be working on my DA A-Z Prompts…But I Just HAD to get this out. Be forewarned, this hasn't been beta'd. I'm working on getting someone to do this regularly, but we'll see how that goes. Any mistakes hereforth are mine, and I appreciate constructive criticism. However, keep in mind this is an AU verse, so to speak for each of the worlds. I've adjusted the DA timeline to match up with Supernatural, because I'm not that great at writing time travel._

_If you'd like to see the direction I'm going with this story, please check out chapter "X" on my Scrambled fic. As per 's guidelines this will not be exactly the same, as "Xerox" was meant to give you the overall gist/summary of the idea. This starts out rated T; but likely to jump to M for language, action-type violence, and maybe my first try at some smuttiness…maybe. I'll warn y'all a head of time._

_I DO NOT own Dark Angel, or Supernatural. They are owned by their respective creators, producers, etc. Just the idea of blending them together in this particular way is mine. You can certainly try your hand at it as well. There are a few OC characters that are mine. Reviews are awesome, if you feel you wish to bestow them upon me I shall be very grateful. I thank you ahead of time for your patience, and hopefully the time you'll put in following my insane ramblings to a conclusion. What if…_

_Wyoming, 1986 2:03 a.m._

"Daddy?"

The quiet whisper startled John awake, and his eyes popped open to find his youngest, Sammy peering at him from the edge of the bed. He rubbed at his eyes sleepily, and John smiled slightly at the sight of his bedhead.

"What's the matter sport?" John eased himself up on his elbow wincing when his sore muscles protested. "Did you have a bad dream?" John's voice was raspy, and he glanced at the bedside clock to find it was after 2 a.m. _Shit._ That meant he'd been out for almost 10 hours.

Dragging his hand across his face, and swung his bare feet down to the carpet and lifted his youngest up unto his right knee, easing his sore left one straight. The last job had been particularly rough and John was feeling his age right now.

Glancing down, he felt his brow furrow in confusion. Sammy was being unusually quiet. His son was a bit of a chatterbox, and was only silent when he was thinking on a problem much bigger than any 3 year old had a right to, or when he was scared. But that made his behavior right now even more unusual.

Sam more often than not, sought out Dean…

"Sammy, what's the matter?" Sam didn't say anything just burrowed his face into John's chest.

"Sam." The tone was all together different, more like that of a drill Sargent, and not what most people would use to cajole an answer out of a toddler. But then, the Winchesters weren't most people and he'd taught his children since Sammy was small to instantly obey that particular tone. It could mean the difference between life and death.

Sam turned his face up at John, and his dark eyes glittered with moisture.

"Sam. Did you hear a noise?" John was already reaching under his pillow for the wickedly carved silver blade.

"No. But Dean's hot."

"Dean's hot?" John kept the blade out and shifted Sam onto his hip while he walked the room to check the salt lines.

"Uh-huh. And he's all sticky."

"Did you wake him up?" John asked limping his way back to the beds. He was surprised the noise hadn't woken Dean up. He was a very light sleeper for his age. Dean would've noticed Sam being gone.

"I dunno." John set Sam down on his side of the double bed he was sharing with Dean.

"What do you mean?" John kept blade in hand and carefully reached for his son.

"He's talking but his eyes won't open." Even through the worn, oversize T-shirt John could feel the heat pouring off of Dean. John carefully rolled him over unto his back, and smoothed a hand across Dean's forehead and short blonde locks.

Dean's lips were moving, but he wasn't saying anything. He was hot, without being sweaty. Sam was right about Dean being sticky, meaning that he had been sweating not more than an hour ago. It also meant Dean was dehydrated.

"Sammy how long has Dean had the cold?"

"The sniffles?"

"Yeah."

"Since we started Peter Pan."

"Hmm." John walked toward the first aid kit in the bathroom and glanced over for the bottle of cough medicine Dean said he'd been taking. It was empty, so that would explain why John hadn't noticed the fever earlier. He'd been a little out of it himself. Not that it was any kind of excuse. Mary would've noticed, he was sure.

To keep the sharp wedge of pain away, John grabbed a ratty washcloth and left it under the cold water while he hobbled back to the bed. Shaking the baby thermometer, before slipping it under Dean's tongue, John looked at the time on the clock.

"Okay Sammy. Can you tell Daddy when the three changes to five?"

"Sure! Numbers is easy. Dean says I'm really good at them. All the way up to 10!" John smiled at Sammy and went over to pull on a pair of pants over his boxers. Walking back into the bathroom, he shut off the flow of water and rang out the excess moisture from the cloth.

"Daddy!" John folded the washcloth into a long rectangle and placed it over Dean's head while he peered at the temperature. 104 degrees. _Shit._ That was way too high for a kid, especially as John wasn't sure how dehydrated he was.

"Sammy, can you put on some pants and shoes?"

"Why are we going to play?" Sam asked innocently blinking up at John.

"We're taking Deano for a ride to cool him down."

"Oh. Okay." Sammy huffed out and scooted to the end of the bed to climb down and over to his duffel bag by the TV. John softly patted Dean's cheek.

"Dean." His son made a noise but didn't open his eyes.

"Dean." He said more firmly. "Wake up Dean. Open your eyes now." Dean's lashes fluttered softly against his pale, freckled cheeks.

"That's it. Good boy. Come on. Open up."

"D-dad?" John felt a slight rush of relief at the sound of his son's scratchy little voice.

"Yeah kiddo. Come on, we're going on trip. Sit up for me okay?" Dean groaned deeply, but he still wouldn't open his eyes.

"_Dean_." This time it was a fierce command and Dean finally snapped his eyes open.

John felt a chill run down his spine as Dean's unseeing glassy eyes gazed up at the ceiling.

"Dean." He whispered in quiet shock, and it was like a dam burst forth from Dean. He started babbling and with every word John felt ice run through his veins.

"Mom. Mommy. Burning. Don't want-Mom. Look up. Dad. Dad. Burn. Don't, oh please. Sam. Not Sammy. No. No. No! I'll burn. No. No. Mom."

The words were like a punch to the gut, ripping and tearing at his soul. Choking down a panicked breath John scooped Dean up into his arms. The movement jarred Dean's eyes to half-mast and his voice quieted down into incomprehensible whispers.

John turned to see Sam standing next to him, looking up solemnly shoes on the wrong feet. John didn't waste time looking for Dean's things, just bundled him up in his own leather jacket and scooped Sam's hand in his own. Marching them quickly out the door and to the Impala. He let go of Sam's hand long enough to dig the keys out of his pocket.

He lay Dean down in the backseat and set Sam next to him. "Keep talking to your brother." John said firmly, before he climbed into the drivers' seat and threw the Impala into reverse.

He was pretty sure there was a veteran's hospital the up the road. John didn't have any viable fake insurance right now, but he wouldn't risk his kids anyway. He should still be eligible for some care from his stint in the Marines; and John was sure of one thing. Dean needed hospital care.

"Hang on Dean." John said glancing in the rearview mirror. Sammy was stroking his head and talking about Neverland-but John could still see Dean's lips moving soundlessly.

_"Burn. Dean. Burning…"_

_VA Hospital, WY 4:10 a.m_.

"Mr. Winchester?" John quickly pivoted on his heel and found himself facing a man in a white labcoat. He had been pacing aimlessly since the nurses had taken Dean from his arms upon arrival. Sam was dozing in a hard plastic chair, having made a nest out of his jacket.

The man was in his mid-thirties, not too far off from John's age by the look of it and it reassured him. He wanted somebody with experience looking after his kid. Gray eyes peered at him from behind wire frame glasses. John realized he hadn't spoken yet. He cleared his throat.

"Yes. I'm John Winchester, how's my son?"

"You can go back and see him now, we've got him stabilized on a saline drip and antibiotics."

"Will he be okay?"

"Yes, I have every reason to believe your son will make a full recovery. He's a remarkable boy. A very good fighter. His fever is already going down." At the Doctor's words, John felt a world of tension ease off of his shoulders.

"Thank you."

"Oh, don't mention it. I would, however like to request permission to draw a sample of your other son's blood, simply as a precautionary measure." At John's expression, he hurried to explain.

"Your children have been in close proximity to each other, and I would like to be certain your other son will not get the virus."

"Whatever you believe is necessary, Doc."

"This would include a sample of your own. It will not take very long to test."

"Sure, okay." John waved a weary hand at the doctor, tension building back up in his back. "Can we go see him now?" he bit out curtly feeling anxious being away from Dean for so long. Especially considering the state he'd been in when they'd arrived.

"Yes. Certainly. I'll send a nurse by to draw your blood shortly. It will only take a few minutes." The doctor started to turn away, when John's hand flashed out and grabbed his arm.

"Sorry Doctor..." John's eyes flashed over his nametag "Sandeman. I just want to see my son."

"I understand Mr. Winchester. I too, have children of my own. I worry about them incessantly as well." Some thing flashed in Dr. Sandman's eyes, and John released his arm slowly. It wasn't out of fear...but there was a strangeness about him...Dr. Sandeman continued on, seemingly unaware of John's emotional shift. "Your son is in room 493, which is down the corridor on your left. If you'll excuse me I have rounds to finish. Have a good rest of the evening."

He turned away from John and continued down the corridor towards the nurse's station, and John followed him with his eyes. Now that Dean was okay, there was something about him…But John couldn't place it.

He turned and scooped Sam back up into his arms, and went down the hall, headed for room 493 and his son. But though Dean was the pressing thought on his mind, he could help but hold onto the name of the Doctor. There was something, almost ominous about him.

_Doctor Sandeman…_

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_AN: I know this first one is more SN focused, but really it's the set-up for the whole stage. Expect a few flashes to this occurrence throughout the fic. Thanks, and if you have any questions, please let me know! Reviews, again are lovely…I hope you enjoyed!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Okay. First just let me say that I'm so, so, sorry for making anyone wait. Life has been crazy lately, but I'm really trying to push and get some of my stories finished! I mean, I started this particular piece because the Season 3 finale of Supernatural…and I just watched the Season 4 finale last week! Gah!!_

_I must say, I really appreciate everyone who has read, added and/or reviewed my stories thus far. It's very flattering, and inspires me to get off my butt and write more!_

_But seeing as how it's my birthday in about, oh, two hours, I thought you might forgive me if I posted a short chapter. :-)_

_ So, I disclaim as I do not own either Dark Angel or Supernatural…but I think I've dreamed enough of owning Jensen Ackles to at least make me qualified as a business partner. LOL... Moving on...come join me on my journey of twice the goodness! Reviews would be a wonderful birthday present…although I don't deserve them for making you wait!_

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**_One week to Freak Nation; Joshua's House_**

Logan pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose sighing wearily. His desk was amassed with piles of paper and stacked haphazardly. Clearing and organizing the clutter at Joshua's old house was on his to do list.

Which, incidentally never seemed to end.

He'd have to start with straightening his desk, then save the world from itself. Add to that finding cure so he could be with Max, free the transgenics from their oppression so he and Max could have some uninterrupted time alone, do the dishes, defrag another computer to run his White activity tracking system…the list was endless.

It was after three in the morning and Logan had a few more minutes to kill before he met his contact online. He'd pulled out all the stops to set up the meet in a secure, E.O. chat room.

Pushing back into his chair, Logan felt his spine pop and realign into a more comfortable position. He scratched his head and after a glance at the clock said, yes it was still 3:07, he eased out from behind his desk to grab a refill for his cup of coffee. Logan frowned when he saw that he was almost out and made a note to add coffee to the grocery list.

With another long suffering sigh, he poked his head in the fridge.

Nothing.

Guess he should start running the software to bounce his signal over the world. He had a picky contact to meet. Ambling back over to his desk he leaned over and started entering the necessary text.

Through various Eyes Only channels and diligent looking, Logan finally felt he had a solid, legitimate lead on a geneticist to help out with the virus. He'd carefully cultivated, studied and deemed that it was not a connection to White.

But what he found interesting was that ChromoX25 did not appear to be Manticore either.

Logan had been a bit reluctant to seek a cure outside of old Manticore alums after the failed attempt a couple months ago that resulted in a waste of time and money. But the payoff for this contact could be everything Logan was hoping for.

After posting a few of the pictures of Max's runes on a website, he'd been surprised when ChromoX25 approached him, asking if that was, in fact Mioan in the pictures. Needless to say, Logan had a slight moment of panic over the recognition of the dead language before he locked down his emotions and hit ChromoX25 with a trace. The tracks were hidden well, but the result seemed to be kicking over from the mid-west of all places.

Logan dropped a packet of expensive sugar in his coffee, stirring with a chipped butter knife to dissolve it. The last few weeks, ever since he found out about Max and Alec; had put a frenzy into his search for a cure. Logan always thought that Max would be there, that if they just gave it time, he could work out the cure for them both. Apparently Max needed more than Logan originally thought, and that painful realization had lead to his taking a chance on ChromoX25.

So after a few searches didn't turn up leads back to the breeding cult, Logan sent a sample of the problem, and scans of the previous notes on the retro-virus. As the relationship developed, Logan dared to send samples of his own blood and Max's blood, and after a period of time, Alec's.

He felt ChromoX25 needed another X-series blood to compare to Max's, as well as to see how the immunities fought off the virus in his own blood unchecked. ChromoX25 had been pleased with his foresight. Logan took a celebratory sip of his lukewarm coffee and glanced at the time on his computer.

3:09 a.m.

Logan hurriedly sat down and quickly double checked that all his protective software was still in place and running correctly. When his status remained neutral, Logan started bouncing his "signal" all over the world to prevent any would-be-bad guys from tracing him. He had less than a minute to go until the rendezvous. Weaving his fingers together, Logan popped his knuckles with a satisfying crack.

He logged on.

After a moment, and seeing that it was past time for the meeting Logan began typing.

_EyesOnly: Are you there?_

There was a pause on the screen, and Logan watched the cursor blink slowly, waiting. Then a response popped up.

_ChromoX25: Yes, I'm here. Is the room secure?_

_EyesOnly: Untraceable._

_EyesOnly: What is the nature of your request?_

_ChromoX25: In regards to the virus you've been kind enough to send my way. The samples. There was one that was particularly… interesting._

Logan paused a moment and sat a little further back from the screen. He needed to be careful here. The contact seemed legit, but there was always tension in these Eyes Only exchanges.

Everyone had their own agendas.

_EyesOnly: Interesting how?_

_ChromoX25: The unknown transgenic male. Sample X. There were qualities there I did not expect. Are you able to send another sample from another male transgenic? I wish to see if they differ on the base level._

Logan felt a moment of wariness. What did Alec's blood have to do with the virus? Was there something special about his blood too? His curiosity now peaked, Logan eagerly responded.

_EyesOnly: How does that pertain to the cure for the retro-virus? It's not mutating, is it?_

_ChromoX25: No. The virus remains lethal to only one party, sample Y. However, seeing as the female sample, infected by the virus appears to be a person of no "junk" DNA, I want to see if every transgenic has a certain allele in common. Are you able to obtain another sample?_

Logan hesitated. He had samples of his and Max's blood on standby. Alec's had been a little tricky, but with a little bit of luck he'd obtained the sample. He didn't think it would be easy to get another of Alec's without notice…much less another X-5's.

Logan had yet to be invited out to Terminal City…and he doubted they'd want to give a sample of their blood to an unknown stranger on the internet. No matter that he'd taken all the precautions.

He could ask Max…but then he'd have to admit he wasn't giving her up to Alec like he thought he could. Logan didn't want to get her hopes up if this didn't pan out. Or worse, he'd hate to find out that she didn't care to cure the virus at all.

Logan needed that blood.

There was one possible way, but Logan could feel uneasiness slipping over him at the thought. Max would've never agreed to it, but Logan thought he might be able to manage it on his own, without any transgenic help.

_ChromoX25: Are you there?_

Logan tramped down the rolling feelings and decided to take the plunge.

_EyesOnly: Maybe. If I can get a hold of a sample I'll contact you to make the drop. Is there anything else you require to continue your research? _

_ChromoX25: Not now. The other sample will shed some light on the situation. If I can isolate the genes that boost their immune system, I may be able to use that to create a barrier around the cure, and make it so the cure is permanent. I'll send contact you if I need anything else. _

_ChromoX25 signed off._

Logan blinked slightly at the abrupt cut off. He had another moment's hesitation, considering how Max might react to his gathering of "sample" DNA. Then a flash from last night, of Alec answering Logan's call, when Max had been ignoring his pages. The flash of pain in his chest at the thought of them together, spurred him on.

Logan wanted Max to be happy, but he couldn't help but feel if only they had the cure she just might be happy with him.

……………………………………………………………………………………

_**Six months Later-Terminal City**._

She was going to kill him. Beat his big, dumb head right here in front of God and the Transgenic Nation. Of all the stupid, idiotic schemes he'd come up with, this was by far the most moronic.

Max was charging through Command, all dark and seething, scattering transgenics as she went.

Those who'd been in Terminal City the longest had automatically shifted away from her presence, instincts telling them to avoid the aura of her anger.

Those unlucky few not paying enough mind to her mood got an elbow to the ribs as Max moved past. She had a piece of paper clutched in her hand and a furious scowl etched into her face. Dix and Luke, both being of the stouter stock remaining in Command, shared a curious look. Surely she couldn't know already? Because that would mean…

When she yanked on the handle of Alec's office door and threw it open, most of Command scattered. Contrary to Max's opinion, Manticore didn't raise no fools.

"What the hell is this?" Max's voice bellowed out from the doorway. With a firm twist of her wrist she slammed the door shut behind her, though it did little muffle Alec's dry response.

"_I dunno. Another Logan induced temper tantrum?"_

"_Alec!"_

"_What? All I see is you flailing your arms all over the place."_

Dix turned his expectant gaze on Luke. Luke had a thoughtful look in his eye. He shrugged at Dix's unasked question and tugged ruefully on his pointy left ear.

"Well that sure didn't last long. I thought Dalton was being careful?" Dix queried.

"Apparently not careful enough. Time to Pay up."

Luke jumped at Mole's growled response behind his head. Dix scornfully waved away the wafts of cigar smoke coming from Mole's glowing cigar.

"I believe the stipulation has yet to be met, so I'd go back to shining your big, bad gun before you go around collecting payments Mole." Dix responded blandly. He was confident that his time in the betting pool would end up the winner. "Or don't you have any faith in our boy?" Dix arched non-existent eyebrows in Mole's direction.

"_What do you mean what? This!"_ The sound of a loud thump reverberated out from beneath the door. Luke winced, hoping it was the desk, and not Alec's head.

_"Oh, you mean that."_ Came Alec's carefully innocent response.

Mole snorted, loudly.

"It's not a lack of faith in Princess's wiles, but more about considering how outside factors affect the outcome." Mole took another long drag on the stub, and gave Dix a superior smirk.

"_It's paper Maxie."_ Alec finally said. His need to fill the vacuum of silence finally winning over whatever innocent facade he was working. Max was no doubt trying to burn a hole through Alec with her eyes.

"_Did you know the ordinaries invented it around 1600 BC? Made from lots of different junk, rice, animal skin but now it's mostly made from tree pulp."_ He added helpfully.

"Oh yeah? What factors are you considering that I hadn't? I might've been a little off on the time line of Max finding out but-" Dix began, ready to cite all the numbers to back his prediction. Even in the middle of a siege, a transgenic could get a little bored. Mole cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Logan." Was his only response.

"Damn." Dix muttered.

"I knew old fozzie bear wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut about Alec's scheme to her royal bitchiness." Mole started ambling over a vacant chair that circled a now empty planning pod. He kicked his boots up onto the desk and started rummaging around in his jacket pocket for another cigar.

"Well, it won't be long now." Luke said brightening a little over the growl that was beginning to emanate from Alec's office.

"_Say, speaking of paper, I really have too much paperwork."_ Alec said over the sounds rumbling warningly from Max.

"_I know what paper IS you jackass, what I'm wondering is what's this propaganda you've got cooked up now!"_ Max seethed. Mole arched his brows at her tone.

"_Hmm, looks like someone's trying to charm the masses through soothing, attractive pictures?" _Alec tried, _"Looks like a handsome devil if you ask me."_

"Are you kidding?" Mole said sarcastically. "She hasn't even started to warm up. So you losers may as well fork it over now and save yourself the humiliation."

It was Dix's turn to snort.

"_Oh really? Cause all I see is an idiot staring up at me!"_ Max roared followed by another ominous thump.

Luke visibly winced again, and with a sigh reached into his pocket for the money to pay Mole.

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_End Chapter One._

_AN: Okay, that's enough for now as I still have packing for Vegas to do! I'm going to start pushing this out, and if you're waiting for the second part of Rune...It's coming! Thanks for Reading! _


	3. Chapter 3

_Wow. So, I really haven't updated this in a long time. I want to take a quick moment and thank all the people who have added this story to their alerts. I WILL finish it. I just also have my D/A challenge fic to finish as well…but onto this story-_

_Supernatural has taken quite an interesting course since I first conceived this idea. I'm going to keep it relatively in line with my original plot…I don't plan to incorporate the Angels, but I may spin off this story and include them…maybe. I do love Castiel. :0) For now, consider it AU after Season 3's finale. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, its characters nor am I making any profit from this story. I also do not own Dark Angel or its characters. I'm just having fun crossing the wonderful stories over. _

**_May, 2008_**

Bobby Singer sees a lot of things that would scare the shit out of the everyday person on the street. Leave them sobbing and weeping in the corner and rightly so. Ever since that demon possessed his wife and he'd been forced to kill her-he had set out into the darkness of this world trying to snuff it out and bring in the light.

He'd never questioned the direction his life had taken, the life of a Hunter ever since. Until he'd met John Winchester and his sons. Jim had recommended Bobby as a source of information in John's quest for answers in the mysterious death of his wife, Mary. It was something Bobby could understand, this quest for vengeance, justice for the dead.

He'd never expected to find himself a family. He loves those boys as if they are his own flesh and blood. More, probably because they aren't. He doesn't have to love them, care for them, but he does. He cared about John, the stubborn old cuss but it's the boys especially he loves.

So it's not fair that he's had to watch all of them, his family, die before him.

Suddenly for the first time, he truly hates this life. The twisted mess it's become. He should have kept them safe. But he didn't and they're dead.

He understands why John died to save Dean. He can live with that sacrifice, even though it's twisted Dean up. He hasn't been able to live with Dean dying; selling his soul to bring Sam back. Turned over every rock with Sam to try to find Dean a way out of his path to Hell.

In the end he failed them both. If he thought seeing Sam dead was hard, it's worse with Dean because he walked into this house knowing his time was up. Sam's sobbing over his big brother's bloodied corpse and Bobby knows there's no coming back. Dean's gone to hell and Sam's just as dead inside.

But he made a promise to Dean, so instead of joining Sam sobbing on the floor he reaches out a hand and lays it on Sam's heaving shoulder.

"Sam. We've got to go. There are a lot of dead bodies and we don't have a lot of good answers." He doesn't mention that he'd already sent the family fleeing in their mini-van to the nearest hospital. Sam ignores him and pulls Dean's cooling body in closer. "Sam."

"I don't care!" Sam howls his voice hoarse and deep with grief. Bobby's always been a bastard though and he digs deep to save the only family he's got left.

"We can't do nothing for Dean, to save him, bring him back if we're locked up in jail and Dean's in a state dug grave." Sam's big watery brown eyes snap up to meet his and Bobby feels the guilt kick deep in his gut. He's re-kindled the fanatic hope Sam's been carrying all these months that he can save his brother. Bobby knows it's not true. Not anymore. They barely had a whisper of hope before Dean died. They'd never get him out now. But he told Dean he'd take care of Sam and he will.

"Okay." Sam sniffs deeply then slips an arm beneath Dean's legs and hefts upwards on trembling legs. Sam's been taller than Dean since he was eighteen, but Dean somehow always managed to look bigger. Now he's almost fragile looking in comparison to Sam. The cold squeezes tighter around his heart. Dean really is gone.

Sam doesn't look back, just moves towards the open front door and the open air beyond it.

...

**Six months after Freak Nation-Terminal City**

Alec finally scrambled out of his chair and Max's immediate range. "Jesus Maxie-Calm down!" He glared balefully at her and rubbed at the back of his head. "That wasn't a love tap!"

Max looked incredulously at him. "Love tap? Love tap? You want a love tap? Come here you stupid oaf and I'll show you a love tap!" Alec quickly leapt away from her grabby hands. They started circling his desk and Alec winced when she kicked his chair out of the way and into the wall.

Okay. She was pissed.

"Max-" He whined, adjusting his position so she couldn't come any closer.

"Don't start! I want to know what in the hell you were thinking, painting a god-damned target on your back like this!" Max snarled and snatched up the paper she'd slammed down on his desk.

"It was supposed to be a surprise. What I shouldn't have been surprised by is Logan tattling to Mommy."

"Don't you go putting this on him! Thank god Logan told me and I found Dalton before he could pass these out!"

"Max, it's just a little harmless fun and we could all use-" Alec cut himself off and made a break for the door, he'd seen the involuntary twitch of her fists over the paper. He didn't quite make it.

Max leapt over the desk and slammed him into the door before he could open it far enough to use as a barrier between them. It slammed shut loudly and she brought him down to the ground in a tangle of limbs. "Oww!" He yelped when her elbow purposefully landed in his solar plexus. "Traitors!" He snarled at the laughs coming through the bottom of his door.

Max had twisted them when they fell and she'd maneuvered him beneath her. She was glaring imperiously down at him, hand pressing into his chest and other hand holding up the picture next to her face.

"Start talking Pretty Boy. Now."

Alec was never one to like taking orders, much less when Max was being all high handed. So even though common sense would suggest that he start putting his sliver tongue to work getting himself out of trouble…he decided what the hell. In for a penny in for a pound.

"Maaaax. If you wanted a good old fashioned roll all you had to do was ask." He wiggled his eyebrows at her and launched the smirk that she hated. "I always knew you wanted my ass. Never figured you for an exhibitionist thou-argh!" Alec tried to pry her knees lose from squeezing his ribs and diminishing his lung capacity.

"Alec. Shut up. Start telling me what this is all about now, before I decide I like the silence better without you breathing, okay?" She pulled one of his hands away from her own thigh, twisting the arm so it shot a little sting of pain up his arm.

"Okay, okay! Call me uncle!"

Max frowned and released his arm but only loosened her grip on his torso a little. "I think you just mean 'Uncle'."

"Whatever." Alec turned resentful hazel-green eyes on her face. "You can be a real bitch, you know that right?"

"Blah blah blah. Tell me something new here Alec, I'm losing patience." Max rotated her hand around near her head before reaching over for the discarded picture and shoving it into his chest. Alec sighed and grabbed it to peer closer.

The siege on Terminal City had been going on for six months and they were currently at a stalemate in negotiations with the city and government. Eyes Only's broadcasts had been helpful to their cause in the beginning-especially the one about White being part of a cult, but that only brought everyone together to the table. It didn't make everyone suddenly see eye to eye.

There was tension behind the barricade as well. Not everyone loved a '09'er telling them to stay. Alec was doing what he could to have Max's back…but she didn't always make it easy. So Alec did what he did best…if that involved manipulating people here and there…well nobody said the job didn't come with perks.

Dix had taken the photo of Alec that Max had been flashing under his nose. He'd been mugging for the camera, in the style of an old school propaganda poster. Dix had refused to let him take up a computer to play around with the effects though, so he'd snuck into Logan's place with Dalton. They'd digitally added the bull's-eye and the phrase "Target transgenics; Target America." Apparently Logan didn't like them messing around with his computers either. What a spoilsport.

"It's just a joke, Maxie. Something for the guys to laugh at."

"Well, I don't find targets over our heads funny Alec." Max replied pushing some of her long dark hair back over her shoulder.

"It's not over anybody's head! Just mine."

"Yeah, well I don't like that either. You get shot enough as it is."

"Max-,"

"What if the chuckle-heads over the fence got a hold of this, huh? You think I want them to have any incentive, real or otherwise to go after my second in command?"

Alec snapped his mouth shut for a moment at looked at her thoughtfully. "I wasn't gonna go giving it to the norms across the street."

"Yeah and how has that worked out in the past with you, huh? Do you remember when you were trying to sell Andy or when you were two-timing it around JamPony? Somebody always finds out Alec. Things are tough enough as it is, you don't need to be throwing fuel on the fire." Max's voice lost its harsh edge and she finally eased up on his ribs. She was still sitting astride him though and Alec wasn't sure what to make of it.

Was Max actually…concerned about him? In more than a "Where's Alec, gotta watch him and make sure he doesn't screw up this run" sort of way? Nah. That couldn't be it. She was just tired or ate something that disagreed with her. Now that the anger was receding she looked wiped.

"Max, when was the last time you slept?"

"What?" Max swung her gaze back to his face, suddenly looking defensive. "I'm fine. We're talking about you, not me."

Alec waved it away. "Fine. I won't go making posters with my face on them anymore, okay? Now, when was the last time you got some rest?"

Max growled and threw herself away from him, finally freeing him from the prison of her legs. "I've been busy, okay?" She tightly crossed her arms over her chest and whirled her head around to glare at him again. "Stop trying to change the subject."

Alec heaved out a dramatic breath of relief as she lifted away from him. He winced a little pushing up into a standing position. Max had really been squeezing him—he had a sudden flash of her thighs wrapped around him for a whole 'nother reason and had to quickly shake his head. No reason to be getting back into trouble when he was clearly on his way out. Max was looking at him again with that almost…concerned look. He wouldn't go so far as to call it tender…but maybe caring? He blinked at her in astonishment. So it wasn't an oxygen deprived mirage.

"Alec?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you hit your head or something?"

"Huh?"

Max sighed and dropped her defensive position. She strode over and reached her hand up towards the back of his head-

"Hey! What're you doing?" Alec ducked to the side watching her hand mistrustfully. "I didn't say anything!"

"Checking your head, idiot! Clearly something's wrong with you if you aren't annoying everyone in the vicinity with your endless yapping!" Her eyes flashed and she grabbed the collar of his t-shirt yanking him back to her. "Now shut up and let me see!"

"Well how am I supposed to know? You're the one who is always smacking me if you'll recall." He pouted at her.

"Oh, I do." Her lips twitched trying to hide her amusement. She bent his head forward and she gently probed his scalp. His hair was mussy and his barcode stood out starkly on the pale skin of his neck. Alec's hair is surprisingly soft and she can't help but thread her fingers through it. Alec pulled back slowly to give her that wide-eyed look of surprise. "What?" She asked defensively.

"Um, Max? You sure you're feeling okay?"

"You need to laser your barcode." Max blurted out fighting a blush. She shoved past him, moving towards the door.

"Why bother? It's safe here, among transgenics."

Max paused, hand on the door knob. She thought of Biggs, CeCe, Zach and Ben. "It isn't safe anywhere, Alec." She spoke without turning to face him, instead twisting the knob and pulling the door open. "Your life isn't worth testing fate over. Trust me."

_Okay- We're going to start seeing our worlds collide soon...I wanted to really dig in and get a feel for their lives beforehand. Also, I want to start getting updates happening in a more timely manner here...*knocks on wood* Thanks for hanging in there!_


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